


Run

by MerlinWinchestr



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Major Character Death TW, Run, Trail of Blood, Whumptober 2020, blood tw, no. 10, no. 9 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinWinchestr/pseuds/MerlinWinchestr
Summary: Allan had always been good at running, too good some had said. But right now he had to be better then just good. But with the pounding of hooves nearing, he knew instinctively that he wasn’t going to be good enough this time.
Kudos: 4





	Run

**Author's Note:**

> **Category:** Gen  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Characters:** Allan-a-Dale   
> **Warnings:** Detailed descriptions of blood and gore. Major character death (canon)   
> **Setting:** 3x12 “Something Worth Fighting For Part One”  
>  **Prompt:** Whumptober 2020 No. 9 and 10: Run and Trail of Blood

# Run

Blood washed down his arm, slick and wet, splattering off onto the forest floor as he pumped his arms, running as fast as he could. Allan had always been good at running, to good some had said. But right now he had to be better then just good. But with the pounding of hooves nearing, he knew instinctively that he wasn’t going to be good enough this time.

Still he ran. Specks of red decorated the path he ran, but he couldn’t even feel the slice made by the last guard he had killed. Arrows whistled around him, embedding themselves into the trees on all sides. One, however, found its mark, piercing his calf and sending him staggering forward with a pained cry. Arrows continued to fly and Allan knew he couldn’t stop. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the arrow and pulled. 

The shout of pain tore from his throat before he could stop it. Blood poured from the wound, running down his leg and pooling into his boot. He took a step forward, gasping and limping as the pain shot through his leg. Bloody footprints marked the path he took, but he couldn’t worry about that. They knew where he was, no chance to hide even if he could. He took one step, then another, and another.

And then he ran. He ran for all he was worth, biting back cries of pain as his leg protested and threatened to give out. But he had to warn Robin, had to make things right, had to do something right for once in his miserable life. His chest heaved, his breathes shaky and gasping as he tried to draw in enough air. 

An arrow slammed into his back, sending him crashing into the ground. He hit the forest floor hard, his knees groaning as his back screamed. His fingers were soaked, the blood staining the leaves he clutched as he pushed himself to his feet. The pain was all he could feel as he stumbled forward, and then one, two more arrows embedded themselves besides the first and he hit the ground.

His vision blurred, the corners of his eyes fading between color and black. It was as if all his strength had suddenly left his body, but still he forced himself to his knees. He put one shaky hand in front of the other, pulling himself along. Robin. He had to reach Robin. And so he crawled, arms trembling, blood turning the dirt to mud. A shadow fell across him and Allan lifted his head. 

“You.” 

The Sheriff smirked. “Me.”

He tutted, eying the arrows in Allan’s back as the outlaws’ arms finally gave out completely and he collapsed. The sheriff’s smirk widened to a grin. 

“So tell me, Allan.” He drawled, stepping carefully around the pooling blood. “How does Robin Hood plan to retake my castle?” 

Allan kept silent, begging his arms to work, to fight back, to run. The Sheriff just reached down, grasped one of the arrows, and twisted. 

Allan screamed. 

“Not dead quite yet,” the villain taunted in delight. “Come now, Allan, just tell me what I want to know and this can all be over. It’s nothing you haven’t done before. After all, once a traitor always a traitor.” 

Allan big back a sob, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth. He heard the Sheriff’s words, but he wouldn’t give the man what he wanted. Not again. Never again. 

Defiantly, Allan lifted his head to peer up at the Sheriff who looked at him without a care in the world. That carefree look was replaced with disgust as Allan spat a chunk of blood right onto the man’s polished boots. 

“I’m no traitor.” Allan gasped, the last of his strength fading with each word. “I am loyal to Robin Hood.” 

The Sheriff frowned. Anger in his eyes, he reached for the arrows once more, but Allan was no longer watching him. With his final breath, Allan reached up and grasped the necklace give him so long ago. The arrow was shoved down, and Allan fell limp, the necklace stained with his blood.


End file.
